


Bliss

by 5eku



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mind Break, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rough Sex, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 21:31:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15033734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5eku/pseuds/5eku
Summary: In the midst of a war with otherworldly beings, Kuroo was captured and was subjected to the experimentation of a mysterious drug. During the torture, the commander aimed to break Kuroo in other ways too.





	Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspiration.](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DFAxJ1aV0AA3Vhb.jpg:large)

The task was something he had done thousands of times, each mission executed exquisitely with maybe the graze of a whizzing bullet here and there. Kuroo had been shot lots of times before, but he was still within the living realm so he couldn’t have been doing too bad. That time, the bullet passed through far too many things it shouldn’t have, rendering him stumbling and crippled to get shot again. A voice was screaming out to him, but Kuroo barely managed to grit out to them to just run. He was a goner, he knew that. Having something attempt to save him was beyond stupid, giving the enemy two kills of the military's best soldiers. Funny, an elite soldier like this being shot down so pathetically. Kuroo was careful, never once taking a chance far too big. But even with caution, it still led to him bleeding out in the middle of the war bend street where the lamps emitted ominous flickers and flyers glided across the ghosted roads where cars laid motionless.

What they were up against weren’t human, they were better, stronger, smarter, but humanity did it’s best to adapt like they had done the entire time to rule the world up until then. They were fighting to just fight another day rather than for peace. Earth was lost, that was clear from day one, but they still fought, their embedded instincts screaming at them to carry on, to live, to retain their position at the top of the food chain. It was hard, because it wasn’t a secret they were put second since the arrival of the mysterious extraterrestrial beings that matched far too many features of human to be classed as something else. What differencerated them was their larger builds, towering over the average heights of humans and their pristine and graceful appearance. Some may call them beautiful, some may say eerie. Their cold gazes flashed brilliant shades of jade and aqua, their fair locks framing their defined visage free from imperfections. They were superior in too many ways, but of course humanity wasn’t one to give up even at their last straw.

Kuroo couldn’t remember passing out, nor could he register his surroundings when his consciousness fought to come back. Everything was hazy, and everything hurt. He was being dragged along the floor; so cold, so uncomfortable, he was still bleeding— wait, he was patched up? The blood still felt like it was seeping through, but it was pouring like it was when he last glanced down in that painted horror. His shirt was black, but it only looked darker with the blood staining it. All of his weapons were gone, and most of his gear was too. _Fuck._

When he struggled, a sharp pain erupted within his abdomen, a lot of it blooming from the main site where he was shot. Kuroo almost screamed, but instead came a pathetic splutter and hack as he zipped in a honed gasp. Surprisingly it didn’t do much to stop him struggling and it only provoked more strikes to where it hurt. Kuroo really was the provocative expert, and maybe it wasn’t the best of labels to go by.

They spoke in a strange language, one Kuroo couldn't pinpoint to anywhere. Knowing over 6 languages himself and knowledgeable on various languages shared throughout the world, Kuroo knew for certain that those guys really weren’t from this world. Aliens, what a strange thing to imagine, even when it was right there in the flesh. Kuroo could only imagine Oikawa being a little disappointed they weren't stereotypically big headed and abducted humans via a glaring beam from a saucepan ship. Life might have been a little easier if these _aliens_ matched what humans were more or less prepared for.

Another kick to the stomach and Kuroo spilled blood past his lips, cerise sprayed along the pristine and harsh white of their futuristic corridors. A flare of white crossed Kuroo’s vision and he felt sickeningly light headed, the voices around him drowning out behind a ring and muffled beneath the water his body created.

_“Don’t kill him, fool!”_

_“He’s annoying, all humans are.”_

_“They just won’t give up.”_

_“Commander Lev wanted him, if he doesn’t get this one he’ll get one of us instead.”_

Kuroo really wondered what they were saying, but he was already lights out and drifted into another place.

…

Kuroo couldn’t move his arms, and it was soon discovered he was bound by cuffs behind his back and he was curled up on the cool metallic floor of an empty room— almost empty. There were figures surrounding him, one holding his head up by those conveniently unruly locks of his that made it easier to grab. A sharp sting pulsed at his throat where Kuroo’s bleary and tunnelled vision soon noticed the monster of a syringe being pushed into him, a strange substance within the tube being injected into his bloodstream. For a moment, he felt no more screwed up that he did from the blood loss and beating, but something else was beginning to take over his senses. His mind muddled up, everything felt wrong and upside down, incorrect and questionable and darker thoughts intruding him in his little space upstairs. Colors flared in vibrancy, his muscles twitched and his skin grew cold while his core seethed and burned agonizingly. Kuroo only managed to choke up a sound back in his throat, any attempt to groan out or even scream trapped behind a barrier formed somewhere deep down.

Something crossed his line of sight, a light? For some reason, he couldn’t comprehend the strange visuals he was witnessing. While half of his signals said it was a flashlight, the other half was rummaging through endless possibilities of what else it could be, most of them bizarre and laughable. Anxiety that Kuroo had never endured before, even while being a sufferer of a degree of post-traumatic stress disorder burned through his body. It was amplified to a level that was point blank unbearable, driving Kuroo into the depths of insanity all too quickly for it to be real. What was happening? Where were the people earlier? They were still there, observing him, prodding him. He wasn’t on the floor anymore and he was instead strapped to a table. When did that happen? The glaring light overhead provoked all kinds of various shapes to fill Kuroo’s vision, pupils blown and eyes wide while they trembled in it’s sockets. Had he even blinked yet?

The so called aliens watched as the human arched his back and went rigid, eyes rolled back and mouth frothing past his clenched teeth. He had already gone several degrees paler from losing blood, but then he was the shade of the glaring lights itself, ashed like bone and lifeless like china dolls. His skin gleamed with a heavy layer of sheened sweat, dark bangs matted against his face as he writhed and seized against the restraints. Blood bubbled from within his nostrils, inching out at those sparse moments his contracting muscles forced the blood out to trail down his face. They watched indifferently, masks hiding whatever lacking compassion they held for the human. One of them reached for another syringe, looking more like a damn gun and spoke of it being the second phase in their language. Even while Kuroo still twitched and trembled with his eyes having zero leverage within their sockets, they pushed the substance inside him again. He tensed again, throat bared and a dark vein like branched beneath his skin blooming from the site they injected him and inching up his jaw and face, reaching down beneath his sweated down shirt on his shoulder too.

 _“Prepare phase three,”_ one said, the commander. He circled their human prisoner and tugged down his surgical mask, revealing a ominous smile down at the human who could only stare blankly as his body shook from reaction to the drug. No one was home behind that pained, empty gaze, but the commander welled in the haunting look of vacancy. “It’s what we call… Bliss,” he said, that time in Japanese as he ran his slender fingers over Kuroo’s face. “It feels bad now, but you will come to crave it later. You humans are especially prone to the feelings of lust towards these false paradises.”

A paradise, funny. Kuroo wasn’t aware of his physical body anymore, being trapped within a plane of his own mind being bent, twisted, corrupted. Tears fell freely from his vapid gaze, less so intentionally and more so to do with the dire reactions to whatever they were pumping him with. Either way, a paradise was not how Kuroo would describe something so close to _hell._

He would go down saying that, bloody and torn apart like he felt, but something bloomed, something intrusive and lying— a blissful flare, euphoric and comforting that smeared with the darkness that was overwhelming his mind. Kuroo forgot entirely who the hell he even was, and only longed for the feeling of total freedom. Nothing else mattered.

…

Everything is numb, nothing more that the buzzing aftermath of pain, mental drainage and whatever the hell else fuckery he endured. Kuroo wasn’t even sure himself what happened, but he felt spent. His limbs wouldn’t move, not even twitch, regardless if there were any bound holding him down. His mind felt broken and empty, a gaping hole searching for something so briefly felt like he would die without it. The emptiness grew to something desperate and unstable, the searching more frantic for something Kuroo didn’t even know. It was twisting him up inside out, what was he looking for? He needed it, it was essential, nothing else mattered, nothing, nothing, nothing—

“Just like every human… pathetically desperate for a paradise you’ll never reach.”

Japanese spoken so smoothly it was like a first language, while feeling so foreign to too precise. Kuroo wanted to move his head towards the voice, the voice so disgustingly silky and tempting, rolling something within his stomach. He couldn’t move.

“Do you want it back? The freedom? The _bliss?”_

Kuroo wanted to say yes, he wanted anything to just drag him away from the crushing desolation, but he could only manage a strained whine clawing up his throat.

The commander smiled, syringe already in hand and pressed against a jutting vein at Kuroo’ throat. “Give in, Kuroo. Allow it to envelop you…”

The thought of the commander knowing his name didn’t really cross Kuroo’s mind, far too crave blinded in wanting the pulsating rapture to flow through his veins. Not a beat later, he was rewarded for his desperation. In the distant depths of Kuroo’s mind, he wondered what his sane and functional self would think of him right then. _Pathetic._ But then again, hope was already lost, there was nothing more to fight for anymore. They fought for another day of pain and fear, why not give in?

_“Give in.”_

He already had.

_“You’re fighting for another day of pain and fear.”_

That sounded familiar.

_“Hope is already lost.”_

A void tore through Kuroo’s mind as he realized he was being fed these thoughts, while they dwelled within him anyhow, they were being forced back up by a voice that wasn’t his. The realization was so brief it may as well have never happened, the bliss dragging Kuroo back into the unsuspecting state of a lacking care in the ruined world.

The bonds were released, but Kuroo couldn’t move anyway. There was a pressure on his arm, held beside his face on the table, a hot breath provoking a chill down his throat, soft skin brushed against his sticky skin. His pants were being torn, not even taken off, just torn, in a questionable area. Kuroo forced his head up, allowing his visuals to connect to the sensations of being touched, grabbed, _kissed._

 _Fight back—_ **_give in._ **

The commander’s meat was something far superior to anything human Kuroo had witness, and even this it had been thin amounts of what he’s seen as the world fell to war by the time he even began thinking much about sex— let along his sexuality. This man— alien, was getting his cock out, laying it over Kuroo’s stomach and kneading his grip into Kuroo’s pained sides. Part of him screamed protest at the contact, another part of him encouraged him to let it happen, that he was in a blissful paradise he had always craved and desired.

 **_It’s going to be okay—_ ** _struggle, fight back, it’s wrong, wrong, wrong—_ **_a blissful paradise, something you’ve never reached before._ **

No preparation, no warning, just the heat and burn growing against his exposes hole, pressing, pressing, pressing. Kuroo’s breaths quickened, his tricked state soon crawling out of the lie he was being forced under. His lips were numb, but he tried anyway. “N—no… please—”

That jaden glare flicked up, tauntingly beautiful and dangerous. It scared Kuroo more so than he already was, those pale lips slipping into a dark smile as the commander watched the prisoner’s face contort into horror. It was too big, it wouldn’t fit, but he pushed anyway. Kuroo was going to break— _he’s going to break me._ It tore, the sanguine flow evidence of the damage from not even the tip wrestled in. If Kuroo relaxed, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard, but he couldn’t let up. Humans weren’t built to give up.

With a single, violent lunge, the commander filled Kuroo, every inch of his pulsing cock reaching far too deep within the human, throbbing against the quivering and tightened walls and that oh so delicate prostate. Kuroo grunted, a scream lost somewhere behind it and his gaze wided to let the tears slip. The commander pulled out, rammed back inside, tearing the feeble human further, over and over leaving a puddle of red where he repeatedly slammed himself into. Kuroo threw his head back staring widely at the wall behind him as he body was ravaged and the bliss screwed around with his head.

 **_Freedom—_ ** _pain._

Choked sounds of desperate gasps slipped past Kuroo’s clenched teeth, each thrust violent and hitting Kuroo to the core. It hurt, but with that size it was consistently rubbing against his prostate, provoking both his sexual wires and the bliss to drive Kuroo into an unbearable state of denial, lust, desire. He laughed roughly, high on the torture and euphoria, mind rendered blank with each slam into his broken body.

 _Let it end, let it end, let it end—_ **_I want more._ **

His eyes rolled up, whites shot harsh red and sockets puffed purple and pinks from exhaustion and tears. Fingers slipped past his parted lips, drool running down the sides of his face and chin. Another thrust, harder than others hit something it shouldn’t have. Kuroo yelped, voice and breath caught before being violently pounded into again and again. Whether to laugh or to cry, Kuroo’s senses were completely out of whack. Moans rasped out, sounds of pleasure and pain, the look of a shattered soldier painted onto the visage of lust.

 _He’s breaking me—_ **_you’re already broken._ **

A harsh snap into Kuroo’s body was followed by a heavy load being emptied inside of him, the commander still pumping his dick in and out of Kuroo as he forced the load out with a sick groan of pleasure, grin bright across his gleaming features of victory and domination. The length never softened, however.

Kuroo didn’t feel his body being dragged down the table and turned over, only his torso being pressed against the cold metal painted with his blood and the commander’s creamy semen. The burning stretch was forcing into the dripping, gaping and abused hole again, and Kuroo felt his world darken. He face pressed against the coolness, drool flowing freely and eyes rolling up as he was pounded against the table at a strength and speed no human should be able to endure. Ruby smeared between his cheeks and seeped within the torn material of his pants, the squelching of the mixed semen and blood filling the room to accompany the slapping of skin against skin. Kuroo felt as full as he felt desolated, his stomach feeling tight and invaded with each harsh thrust into him. With great struggle, he moved his free hand down to his stomach, feeling the bulge push against his insides each time the commander rammed his cock inside.

**_Broken—_ **

Another flow, this time provoking Kuroo to retch and heave up a stomach full of bile. It wasn’t the end, and he was fucked over and over again. Not just by the commander, but by others too. He had made it to the floor, basically bathed in his own blood and the alien semen as he was fucked from face to ass by monstrously large dicks that pumped far too much inside of him. He was administered more of the bliss, driving Kuroo to his limits and leaving him in a torn disaster of lacking sanity or care. He moaned freely as he was fucked ruthlessly, pushing his body further onto the textured cock slamming inside of him and assisting those who used his mouth with his recently learned skills on taking a dick in there.

**_No hope—_ **

Time didn’t exist anymore, and neither did Kuroo’s long shattered mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue this but I have no idea where to even go from here lmao. There's barely even a plot, but thanks for reading my self-indulgent darkness. :)


End file.
